“How very unpleasant you both are this evening!” said Rosamond. “I cannot conceive why money should have been referred to. Politics and Medicine are sufficiently disagreeable to quarrel upon. You can both of you go on quarrelling with all the world and with each other on those two topics.”
Rosamond looked mildly neutral as she said this, rising to ring the bell, and then crossing to her worktable.
“Poor Rosy!” said Lydgate, putting out his hand to her as she was passing him. “Disputation is not amusing to cherubs. Have some music. Ask Ladislaw to sing with you.”
When Will was gone Rosamond said to her husband, “What put you out of temper this evening, Tertius?”
“Me? It was Ladislaw who was out of temper. He is like a bit of tinder.”
“But I mean, before that. Something had vexed you before you came in, you looked cross. And that made you begin to dispute with Mr. Ladislaw. You hurt me very much when you look so, Tertius.”
“Do I? Then I am a brute,” said Lydgate, caressing her penitently.
“What vexed you?”
“Oh, outdoor things—business.” It was really a letter insisting on the payment of a bill for furniture. But Rosamond was expecting to have a baby, and Lydgate wished to save her from any perturbation.